


Stakes and Stones

by MagpieTales



Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris
Genre: F/M, Swearing, Victorian Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieTales/pseuds/MagpieTales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sookie had seen plenty of shocking things since she started hanging with the vamps, but this one wasn't even on her radar. She never saw it coming, but lucky for her Pam came to the rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stakes and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little one shot I wrote, set in no particular universe, at no particular time. It's a bit of an experiment. I hope it makes a suitable Easter treat, once you get past the hard shell to the sweet fondant ending. Enjoy.

  _'Stakes and stones will break my bones, but words shall never, never hurt me.' ~ Vampire saying, Anon._

* * *

Sookie was sitting on the porch swing, one leg curled under her and the other idly pushing off the porch now and then to keep the swing rocking. She stared out over the moonlight back garden and sighed heavily.

She was waiting for Eric. He was late – or rather, his idea of 'later' had turned out to be radically different to hers. She guessed it wasn't easy to remember what it was like to need a good night's sleep when you hadn't been human for ten centuries. She couldn't even send him a pulse of lust to hurry him along, not now she'd broken the blood bond. Still, she was glad she'd done it. Any pleasure she felt once he got here would be all hers.

She snickered. She was sure it would be _very_ pleasurable. It always was with Eric.

She sighed again.

The motion of the swing had almost lulled her to sleep when he landed on the damp lawn with a whoosh. She jerked awake and grinned at him. His hair shone almost white in the moonlight and that leather jacket… Yummy. She jumped off the swing, ran down the steps, and launched herself into his arms.

Eric hesitated, but Sookie didn't noticed it in her rush to get to him. Recovering quickly, he moved at vamp speed, throwing his arms open to catch her. She buried her face against his chest and breathed him in. Squeezing his waist between her thighs she lifted herself up and planted one hell of a kiss on him.

He pulled back grinning, a glint of triumph in his eyes. Two large hands kneaded her thighs roughly. “That's my Sookie. Always so eager to spread her legs for me.”

Before Sookie could react to his words, he slid a hand up her back and forced her forward, onto his lips. Sookie wasn't quite prepared for the force of the kiss, but she gave into it eagerly. This was Eric and the man's lips had never let her down.

Except … about thirty seconds in it began to hurt, and not in a good way. She struggled to pull away but he held her in place, only releasing his grip when she was desperate for air. Gasping, she leaned back in his arms, touching her throbbing lips with her fingers.

“Eric,” she said in a shocked tone, once she had breath to speak. “What on Earth has gotten into you?”

“What?” he said with that damn cocky smirk. He purred, “You love it rough. My little slut.”

“Eric!” she admonished. “Don't talk nasty!”

She struggled to push away from him, but he had hold of her thighs with both hands. He pulled her tight against the bulge in his jeans, rocking his hips as she wriggled.

“Oh Sookie,” he said in a deep voice. “Do that again.”

She stopped moving and glared at him. “Eric Northman, you put me down right now!”

He grinned. “I think the _lady_ doth protest too much.”

Sookie couldn't believe the sarcasm in his voice. “What?” she said, dazed, her anger momentarily doused by bewilderment. Why the hell was he acting like this?

“Oh, come now. Drop the act. How long did it take under Hallow's curse, Sookie? A few nights and you were all over me.” He laughed, snidely to her ears. “Some lady you are.”

His words hit her like ice water. She pushed at his chest with all her might and he let go this time. She slid down his hard, cold body, landing awkwardly, staggering. She immediately stepped back, away from him.

“Eric Northman–”

She didn't get to finish, because he interrupted her. “Just like Jackson. A day more, and you'd have been all over the wolf.” His voice was teasing, but there was a hardness in his eyes she had never expected to see directed at her. She hated it. He drawled, “I heard the tiger had his tongue all over you the day you met, too.”

“Oh, puh-lease,” she snapped, that famous Stackhouse fire roaring to life within her, coming to her rescue. “Don't pretend like you're some saint, Eric.”

He shrugged. “I never claimed to be. Besides,” he gestured at himself, “vampire. Feeding and fucking is instinctual, part of who I am. And unlike you, I don't pretend I'm something I'm not.”

Sookie inhaled abruptly, air hissing over her teeth and her hands went to her hips. “Now look here, Eric–”

“I have to admire you though, keeping up the good Southern woman act so long. All it took from Bill was a little attention, and you gave it up. Hell, you didn't even hold out for his money. Talk about getting the milk without buying the cow.”

Hot with anger, she slapped him then, as hard as she could, biting back a yelp of pain as the crack rang out.

He just laughed. “Sookie, Sookie, Sookie. Why so surprised? You must know what I think of you. Oh, wait. Guess you don't.” He tapped his temple. “Quiet as the grave to you. Didn't you learn not to trust vampires after Bill?”

“I thought you were different,” she gritted out. She refused to let one single tear fall in front of him, wrapping herself in a cloak of fury even as her heart broke. “You lying, deceitful son of a bitch!

“You forgot cheating.” When she made a choked sounded, he said scornfully, “Oh, come on. You didn't really think I'd be faithful.”

“You bastard, Eric. You're no better than Bill!”

“Oh, I am. Much better,” he leered, winking. “And I don't seduce assets for anyone but myself.”

“I'm just an asset now?” she whispered under her breath, numb.

He carried on as if he hadn't heard her. “I suppose you did learn _one_ thing from Bill,” he mused. He waved in the general direction of the driveway, and the porch – complete with the new swing, the new door, the new windows – while Sookie gaped at him in horror. “Make them pay for the milk. Very practical, I approve. You're using me as much as I'm using you.”

“I am not some gold-digger,” she said, her voice cracking. She took a step back again, confused. Eric opened his mouth and she wondered what fresh hell was coming next.

“Oh, of course,” he said. “It is not just my money, it is the sex too. Vampire sex. You crave that now. Some good Christian woman you are.” He added carelessly, “Just another a whore, a Jezebel.”

Hearing Eric call her that, Sookie was swept up in a storm of outrage, horror, and pain. A storm that threatened to fling her down onto the rocks, broken and bruised at any second. She froze, mouth half-open, torn between standing her ground and screaming obscenities at him, or turning tail, running inside and rescinding his invitation so she could dash herself on those rocks, devastated, drowning in salt water.

But before she could do either, a blur shot past her and knocked Eric to the ground, snarling.

“That's my favourite breather you're talking to, asshole. Fuck you,” it said.

The words were followed by growling and hissing, the two vampires blurring as they rolled across the lawn, fighting for dominance. Sookie couldn't make out much, not until an arm clad in pink shot up holding a broken branch, and slammed back down, impaling Eric in the chest.

He exploded into ash and Pam got up, cursing as she dusted off her pale pink twinset.

Sookie gaped.

Eric was... dead.

Gone. And Pam had...

For her.

That was taking sisters before misters to a whole new level.

Sookie stumbled over to the porch steps and sank down on to them, her knees weak and her hands shaking. Pam turned to look at her, hands on her hips.

“Pam,” she said shakily. “I can't believe you killed–”

Sookie yelped and her eyes almost fell out of her head as another Eric, dressed identically to the first, landed on the grass in a crouch.

Eric-number-two scanned the trees rapidly, before straightening up to his full height. He glanced at the ash covered clothes on the ground and raised an eyebrow. “Pamela?”

Pam stepped closer to him and they had one of those weird silent-to-mortals conversations that vampires had. Eric's jaw was tight by the end of it. He strode over to Sookie, his eyes running over her, but when she flinched away from him, curling her body against the railing protectively, he halted, still a few feet away.

Crouching down, he asked gently, “Are you hurt, lover?”

Sookie stared at him round-eyed for a moment, before visibly gathering herself and shaking her head. “Eric? It's really you?”

“Yes.”

“Then who the hell was …” Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Sookie gestured at the mess on her lawn, at the latest victim reduced to fertiliser in a list that was far too long in Sookie's opinion.

Eric said, “I do not know.”

He glanced back over his shoulder. Pam was rooting through the pile of stained clothes, and Sookie could've sworn she just saw her drag her fingers through the ash and lick them. Ew.

Pam walked over and reported to her maker. “Smells like you, tastes like you.”

Eric stood up, turning to face his child. “Bill was not home. His house smells of witch.”

“A stake was too good for that fucker,” Pam said, hissing.

Sookie gasped. “Oh my god. That was Bill?” She shook her head in amazement, mumbling, “What did he do, take poly-juice potion?”

“Poly-juice?” Pam asked sharply. “Is that something Amelia mentioned?”

“No, no. It's in those movies. Harry Potter,” Sookie said absently, staring at the remains of her first ever lover. She thought, _Bill_ _i_ _s gone. Really gone._ _I'll_ _never see him again._

 _Guess_ _Bill_ _meant it when he said he'd do anything to lie with_ _me_ _again_. _I'm pretty sure_ _Eric was the last person on Earth he would ever want to see in the mirror. Cheese and rice, e_ _very time_ _I think I've got_ _some sort of handle on the supe world something else c_ _o_ _me_ _s_ _along to sucker punch_ _me_ _._

Sookie was having a hard time wrapping her head round it all. Bill had looked just like Eric, down to the last hair. Sounded like him, smelt like him...

This was one crazy night.

It had all happened so fast too. And Pam hadn't even hesitated. Sookie rubbed her forehead and said wearily, “He was a carbon copy. His face, his voice… Pam, how could you tell it wasn't Eric?”

“How could you not?” Pam said, and Sookie was surprised by the harshness in her voice.

Then Sookie realised, and groaned. “Of course. You knew the real Eric was over at Bill's, because you can sense him.”

“And whose fault is it that you can't?” Pam said drily.

“Pamela,” Eric said warningly.

“The blood bond wouldn't have helped anyway,” Pam added, ignoring her maker. “The spell had that covered.”

“It mimicked our blood connection too?” Eric asked, surprised.

“Yes. There was a brief moment of... confusion as the spell cut in, enough to put me on my guard. If I'd been in Shreveport I doubt I would have noticed. It's lucky I was here.”

Eric nodded, apparently satisfied.

Sookie wasn't, but at least things were started to make some sort of sense – the weird, fucked-up sort of sense that existed in the supe world. Then she noticed the blood splattering Eric's face and hands, and that distracted her. “Eric, you're covered in blood. What happened?”

“There was … an attempt to delay me.” He vamp-sped to the hose and washed off his hands and face, returning clean if slightly damp. He exchanged a look with Pam and she walked off a ways to where he'd left the hose and began unrolling it towards the mess on the lawn.

Eric moved slowly to sit down next to Sookie, on the steps. He stared thoughtfully out into the night, making no move to touch her. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet Sookie had to strain to hear him over the noise of the water Pam was using to sluice Bill's ashes away.

“You found it convincing, his act?”

“I…” She didn't know what to say.

“Pam said he called you a whore.” His voice was neutral, as if that meant anything at all with vampires.

“I didn't want to believe it was you sayin' that,” she whispered, looking away, her eyes filling with tears.

It had been so real, she was still raw from it. And it didn't help that now part of her was wondering if she deserved those horrible things Bill had said.

All the things he'd accused her of were true after all.

She had let John Quinn lick her leg clean when they'd only just met.

She had almost kissed Alcide in Jackson. Had let her kiss him afterwards, when he brought her suitcase back.

She had fallen for Bill, hard and fast, when all he'd done was pay her the bare minimum of attention. Hell, after a couple months he'd stopped bothering to do even that, spending more time with his damn database than her, and she still hadn't twigged something was wrong.

What did that all say about her? Her morals, her gullibility? Her desperation?

Pam arrived in front of them. “Your lawn is fed. Bill was good for something in the end.” Noticing the far away look in Sookie's eyes and her pursed lips, Pam frowned. “Don't tell me you're upset over that idiot after what he said to you.”

An awful thought occurred to Sookie then. What if Bill meant those things?

Sure, he'd said them wearing Eric's face, clearly hoping she'd believe he was Eric and break things off with the Sheriff for good, but he'd been awful convincing. The look of disgust in his eyes…

Bill couldn't think those things about her. He had loved her. Hadn't he?

Sookie didn't feel sure of that any more. She wiped under her eyes and looked from Eric to Pam. “Bill was right about one thing,” she said softly. “I can't tell what y'all are thinking. And it's not like it's the first time someone has thought that about me.”

Eric sat back on the step, only the line of his jaw displaying his unhappiness at her words. “Who thinks this?”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “Folks in town. Enough of them that it wasn't a surprise to hear it.” She didn't added: your dayman, the guy at the GrabitKwik, the old ladies at church... No need to give him a list to work down.

Pam snorted. Loudly. “And you listen to that drivel?”

“I can't help it,” Sookie snapped. “Hell, they don't even have to say it out loud, remember.”

“Why care what they think? They're uneducated hicks.”

Sookie felt the need to defend her home. “It's a small town, everybody gossips.”

Pam rolled her eyes. “Please. It's got nothing to do with small towns. By God woman, you wouldn't have last a day in the drawing rooms of London.”

“Did they call you touched in the head, a crazy freak?” Sookie asked sharply. She carried on, building up a good head of steam, needing to take her frustration and hurt out on someone. “Or call you stupid, crazy no-good white trash? A gold-digger, a fangbanging whore?”

Pam raised an eyebrow. “In my human time a preference for women was considered a freakish perversion. I was whispered about, called names. Once I flashed too much ankle and Mrs Featherington-Hyde, whose word was law in my social cricle, said Iwas no better than a dollymop.”

“Huh?”

“A whore. Her spiteful bitch of a daughter would have called me a threppenny upright, had she known the term.” At Sookie's blank look Pam added, “As in three pence, against a wall. A _cheap_ whore.”

Sookie winced and said lamely, “Oh.”

“The drawing room civilized the words, but the meaning was the same.” Pam gave Sookie a long look. “And the motive. You understand why people say those things.”

Sookie opened her mouth to say it was because she was with a vampire, then closed it. Best not open that can of worms while they were all still tense.

Gesturing at the lawn Pam said, “Lovers say these things when you leave them for another. Or fail to pick them in the first place. Because they are... What is that delightful term? Ah yes, butt-hurt.”

Sookie looked at the dark stain on the grass and frowned.

It wasn't just that. It wasn't just Bill. Other women thought those things about any woman who was … loose. Didn't get married. Played the field before she did. Because that wasn't how a good Christian woman – hell, just a decent woman never mind the Christian part – was supposed to behave.

She had been brought up within a certain moral framework that Pam and Eric just didn't get; they'd lived outside such moral strictures for too long. Vampires didn't have to follow the same rules, Bill had been right about that. How could she expect them to understand?

Pam was watching her face closely. “And as for other women: they are jealous of you.”

Sookie frowned, distracted from her line of reasoning. “Of what? Eric?”

“No. You. You have what they want. Freedom. Strength. You don't live by the rules that confine them, so they want to beat you down.”

“What if the rules are right, Pam?” she said quietly.

“Which rules?” Pam snorted. “You know why good old Queen Vicky didn't ban lesbians? Because the men writing the laws truly believed women couldn't possibly enjoy sex, so they'd never do it with each other.”

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched. “Pam, let it go. It's been a century.”

She ignored him and continued. “In my day women were the Angels of the household, fit for raising children and not much else. Men believed, really believed an education would shrivel our ovaries. Can you believe that? What idiots! Eminent men wrote treaties on women's complete disinterest in sexual pleasure.”

Eric muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Couldn't find a G-spot with a flashlight.”

Sookie shushed him, but Pam laughed. “Of course not. Desire was an evil good Christian men suffered only within marriage to procreate. And yet brothels flourished.”

Sookie sighed. “That was a long time ago, Pam.”

Pam shrugged. “The attitude persists. The stupid still believe men are burden with impulses they can't control, that the poor dears can't be expected to hold back. Women who indulge their impulses are fair game for abuse, they are ostracised and held up as a bad example. It's all bullshit and it does both sexes a disservice.”

Sookie blinked. “Well, I don't know that Jason's tomcatting around hasn't had some … negative impact on his reputation.”

“Yet his self esteem seems to have survived intact,” Pam deadpanned. “I'm sure he suffers a tenth the disapproval you do for indulging himself a hundred times more often.” She looked at Sookie with that unblinking stare for a moment before her face softened. “But I suppose it is a little different when you can hear their thoughts.”

Eric reached over a took Sookie's hand. “I do not think the things Bill said. I have never thought that way, especially about you.”

“Never?”

“Never,” he said firmly. “Why would I? I _like_ women.”

Pulling her hand to his mouth he kissed it and grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows. “And I _like_ you more than all of them. In fact, Sookie Stackhouse, I love you.”

Sookie's night got a whole lot better from that moment on. Eric definitely didn't need a flashlight to find any of her sensitive spots, and he kept her awake almost until dawn proving it.


End file.
